of
your body and you night after night. I have been imaging--"
"Mr. Ramage, I came here--I didn't suppose for one moment you would
dare--"
"Nonsense! That is your mistake! You are too intellectual. You want to
do everything with your mind. You are afraid of kisses. You are afraid
of the warmth in your blood. It's just because all that side of your
life hasn't fairly begun."
He made a step toward her.
"Mr. Ramage," she said, sharply, "I have to make it plain to you. I
don't think you understand. I don't love you. I don't. I can't love you.
I love some one else. It is repulsive. It disgusts me that you should
touch me."
He stared in amazement at this new aspect of the situation. "You love
some one else?" he repeated.
"I love some one else. I could not dream of loving you."
And then he flashed his whole conception of the relations of men and
women upon her in one astonishing question. His hand went with an almost
instinctive inquiry to his jawbone again. "Then why the devil," he
demanded, "do you let me stand you dinners and the opera--and why do you
come to a cabinet particuliar with me?"
He became radiant with anger. "You mean to tell me" he said, "that you
have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes--keeping you!"
This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile.
It stunned her. She felt she must fly before it and could no longer do
so. She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put
upon the word "lover."
"Mr. Ramage," she said, clinging to her one point, "I want to get out of
this horrible little room. It has all been a mistake. I have been stupid
and foolish. Will you unlock that door?"
"Never!" he said. "Confound your lover! Look here! Do you really think
I am going to run you while he makes love to you? No fear! I never heard
of anything so cool. If he wants you, let him get you. You're mine. I've
paid for you and helped you, and I'm going to conquer you somehow--if
I have to break you to do it. Hitherto you've seen only my easy, kindly
side. But now confound it! how can you prevent it? I will kiss you."
"You won't!" said Ann Veronica; with the clearest note of determination.
He seemed to be about to move toward her. She stepped back quickly, and
her hand knocked a wine-glass from the table to smash noisily on the
floor. She caught at the idea. "If you come a step nearer to me," she
said, "I will smash every glass on this table."
"Then, by
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